The bitch
I sat there
in my usual spot
fingers poised
awaiting her dominion
It will begin
as a trickle
I peck my way
across the page
She takes hold
and the scenes
unfolding behind my eyelids
magically find their way
to the page
Magic
It really does
feel like magic
She has hold of me
My fingers glide
unbidden
forming the images
in my mind's eye
The world around me
forgotten
It's just me
and the page
This is the
magic my muse
wields for me
But not today
My Muse
broke our appointment
again
The fickle bitch
Copyright (C) 2021 Penny Wilson
*The original version of this was written in 2018.
I liked it very much back then, but I've revised
and refreshed it here. I hope you enjoy.
Go ahead, make my day. :) Share, push a button or two!
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Penny Wilson Writes 
Very nicely done penny 🙂
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Thank you, Rory 🙂
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My pleasure penny 🙂
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you, Chuck!
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It seems she didn’t break her appointment. I love how I can visualize this (her).
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lol. 🙂 Thanks, Audrey.
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